


O Chrizmas Tree

by Jennistar



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 20:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennistar/pseuds/Jennistar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason drunkenly waxes lyrical about Christmas. Hercules and Pythagoras make it all better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O Chrizmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot, hastily written friendship fic. Because it's CHRISTMAS, guys! :)

“The thing is,” Jason slurred, “The problem _is_ – it’s the trees. Tha’s what ‘m saying. The _trees_ are the problem.”

Hercules and Pythagoras stared thoughtfully at Jason as he wobbled a bit on his bench. Up until about half an hour ago, their evening at the tavern had been going as it always went – with Hercules drinking heavily, Jason drinking sensibly and Pythagoras not drinking at all. Then Pythagoras had mentioned offhandedly that it was the last month of the year and the next thing they knew Jason was downing ale like there was no tomorrow.

“Yer don’ understand,” Jason said. “Y’ave _no_ idea. Yer’ve not even _heard_ of Chrisssssmas!”

“Chriz-mas?” Hercules muttered. “What’s that?” He glanced at Pythagoras, but Pythagoras shrugged.

“I’ve heard of a lot of different rituals, but not that one,” he replied.

“O’ course you ‘aven’t, there’s no bloody damn Christ yet, yer doughnut!” was the reply.

His friends were struck dumb by this sentence. Jason sighed heavily.

“Look,” he said with thick patience, “Le’ me explain ter you a thing. Chris’mas is a very special time of year. ‘S my favourite time of year. ‘S _anyone’s_ favourite time of year and if ‘s not yours then you’re a _Grinch_ , got it?” He pointed fiercely at Hercules. “ _Grinch_ ,” he repeated firmly.

Pythagoras gently batted down Jason’s hand before an irritated Hercules could go on the attack. “And what happens at this time?” he prompted.

Jason muttered and took another swig of ale. “‘S a tree that yer put up in – in your house and yer put sparkly things and a star and stuff on it – but _you_ don’t have the right tree, yer _heathens._ ”

“What sort of tree is it?” Pythagoras asked.

He was rewarded with a long, slow stare. “‘S spiky,” Jason said at last. “‘S a spiky tree with…spikes. An’ – an’ yer put presents under it and a big fat man comes into the house an’ gives more presents as well when you sleep.”

Hercules hummed. “That sounds a bit unsafe. Letting some huge man wander around your house at night.”

“I don’t know,” Pythagoras muttered, taking a sneaky sip of Jason’s ale. “ _We_ allow it every night.”

Hercules glared at Pythagoras. Jason sniffled into his ale. “‘S so shiny,” he mumbled to himself. “An’ there is presents. Anna. Anna turkey bird. An’ _sprouts._ ” He snivelled some more.

“Right,” Pythagoras said decisively. He stood up. “Enough of this, I think. Hercules, grab that arm, I’ll grab this one.”

They hoisted Jason up between them and unsteadily made their way out of the tavern. Jason said, “Oh, and _crackers_!” and promptly passed out on Hercules’s shoulder.

Hercules and Pythagoras sighed in unison.

* * *

 

It was only just twilight when they finally hauled Jason onto his bed – they had started drinking quite early in the afternoon.

“Now what do we do?” Hercules complained.

Pythagoras checked Jason wasn’t lying in a position that would make him choke on his own vomit and then straightened up. “I’ve had an idea,” he said.

* * *

 

Jason opened his eyes and then immediately wished he hadn’t. Everything hurt. “Oh God,” he said, and closed them, but that didn’t make anything better. He slapped his hands to his face and wished for a quick and painless death.

It didn’t come. His head throbbed. He opened his eyes.

It was daylight and he was staring at the same old familiar ceiling, but there was something different about it. It was…glittering.

“Huh?” he said, and sat up.

And stared.

There was a great big cypress tree sitting in the corner of the living area. It was covered in tiny flakes of gold and there was a rather wonky wooden star sitting atop of it, and underneath it were lumpy objects wrapped in scraps of cloth. Beside it sat several candles and Hercules and Pythagoras, who were grinning from ear to ear.

“Ta _dah!_ ” said Hercules.

“Happy Chrizmas Day!” said Pythagoras.

Jason stood up, ignoring the way his head span. “You got me a _tree?_ ” he whispered.

“It’s probably not the right tree,” Pythagoras said. “But it was the spikiest we could find.”

“I carved the star,” Hercules put in.

“And we got Ariadne to help with the gold flakes,” Pythagoras added. “It’s not like we’ve got gold to spare here. But we did get each other presents.”

“And a turkey,” Hercules said, “But no sprouts because we don’t know what they are. We have beans though.”

“Oh, and crackers!” Pythagoras said.

Jason stared at him. “You’ve got crackers? In Atlantis?”

“Of course,” Pythagoras laughed. “By the barrel load. Here you go.” And he reached over to the side table and presented Jason with a plate of biscuits.

Jason picked one up. “Crackers,” he echoed, and realised his vision was growing blurred.

Pythagoras was looking at him worriedly. “Did I misunderstand something?” he asked.

Jason wondered if he might cry, then laughed instead. “No,” he said. “Nothing.” And then he put the cracker down and dragged Pythagoras into a hug.

Pythagoras twitched but settled into it. Jason reached out with his free hand and pulled Hercules into the embrace as well, until they were all squashed up against each other. “You guys are the greatest,” he mumbled into Pythagoras’s hair.

Hercules’s hand patted his shoulder. “Happy Chrizmas Day, Jason,” he said, and Pythagoras hummed in agreement.

“Happy Christmas all,” Jason said, and smiled.


End file.
